Absentee from Errata by End States

You committed to healing isolation. They kept me in for observation but now they won’t let me leave. And you tried your best to build out the darkness, but I still see it in the arches the steeples and tiled walls. You worked hard to design distinct professions for yourself. Your father restored faith, true to form. A real architect of will. Abandoned buildings standing still. Every hollow spire inspires another shadow’s faded form. Our fear is real, still waters run deep. Blinded by our ways and what we achieve. I’m lost. A withheld addressee. An ever present absentee. Did they overlook your stammered speech, or did they substitute your delivery? For any other man this place would be a precinct, palace, an ordained monastery, but not for me. Between the red brick walls, repressed contempt, divine rights and sacrament – your influence locked in cast cement decrees. An absentee.

• Acoustic
• Folk
• Pop
• Punk
• Rock
• Sunderland